It's always You: Sherlock Fix-it Fanfiction
by Copper and Tellurium
Summary: It's all about the Legend. The stories. The adventures. There is a last refuge for the desperate, the unloved, the persecuted, there is a final court of appeal for everyone. 221B Baker Street. Season 4 Fix-it Fanfiction.
1. Chapter 1

It's always You - Sherlock Fix-it Fanfiction

 **I haven't written a single fanfiction in my life. Like ever. So criticism is welcome  
I don't own any of these characters, all the mistakes I made are mine and I'm sorry  
I hope you enjoy!~**

Chapter 1: Aftermath

John Hamish Watson. His best friend. The person for whom he cared so much for almost crossed the line between life and death again. And just like last time it was all because of Sherlock. His curiosity and ignorance killed five people if not more and almost took the life of Molly, John and Mycroft. By ignoring both his brother and John he put everyone he has ever cared for in danger.

"Curiosity killed the cat I suppose." Sherlock spoke quietly to himself. With his hands clasped behind his back he stood outside of his home, police cars were parked in front of the house alongside the ambulance and the firetrucks. He was sure he heard a helicopter too. Next to him was his friend John, wrapped up in a few blankets, shivering from the cold. He spent quite some time in that well and almost drowned, but luckily Sherlock got to him in time. By the time Sherlock and the firemen reached down he could barely keep his head above the water. Throwing down a rope seemed like a good idea to help John pull himself up just a little bit above the water for extra time. The chains didn't allow him to go up much but they gained a few extra minutes.

They managed to stop the water flow and from that point on the firemen had gotten down into the well and cut the chains. Successfully they rescued John, but by the time he was carried out of the well Sherlock was positive he had Hypothermia. Still the stubborn man insisted on staying, telling Sherlock that he was a doctor and that he was all fine. Not wanting to argue Sherlock got him the warmest blankets he could find and wrapped him in them.

"Sherlock" a voice snapped the man out of his thoughts and he turned his head to the right where a shivering John stood. His hair was wet, the cold water dripping onto his face and the cold air was definitely not helping in this situation.

"Yes?" he asked, completely oblivious of the fact that John had tried to get his attention at least 5 times now.

"I asked what did you say?" John repeated his question, but to Sherlock it was only the first time hearing it.

"No, nothing important. Just thinking out loud" the detective replied

John parted his lips to say something, but closed them almost immediately when Sherlock turned to look in front of himself. His brows lightly furrowed and John understood why as soon as he turned to look at what Sherlock was looking at. Eurus. The woman was being led into a police car by two officers, her hands clearly cuffed behind her back. He was pretty sure the two siblings locked eyes for a moment there, but it didn't last long since the two heard a familiar voice of Greg Lestrade and turned away from Eurus to face him.

"I just spoke to your brother" Greg addressed Sherlock as he walked over to the two

"How is he?" Sherlock asked immediately

"He's a bit shaken up, but that's all. She didn't hurt him, she just locked him in her old cell" the inspector replied

"What goes around comes around" John said, pulling the blanket a bit tighter around himself

"Uh, give me a moment boys" Greg said when he noticed one of the officers waving to him, as if asking Greg to come over. He walked past Sherlock, but didn't go far because the detective still had something to say

"Uhm…Mycroft. Make sure he's looked after. He's not as strong as he thinks he is" Sherlock said as Greg turned to face him

"Yeah, I'll take care of it" Greg said with a firm nod and turned around once more, walking off

"Thanks, Greg" Sherlock said and turned away, not noticing the inspector turn around yet again to look at him with a clearly surprised look on his face.

Sherlock glanced at John once more, the shorter male was still lightly shivering, pulling the blanket around himself to get some warmth. Even if John was clearly uncomfortable and freezing up he didn't complain, instead he worried about Sherlock and his emotional state.

"You okay?" he asked, stepping a little closer to the detective.

"I said I'd bring her home. Can't can I?" Sherlock replied

"Well you gave her what she was looking for. Context"

"Is that good?" Sherlock asked, his calm expression changing into a slightly confused one as he looked over at John

"It's not good, it's not bad it's…." John said, looking over at the dark house "It is what it is" he said, looking over at Sherlock.

Without saying another word Sherlock walked off to talk to one of the officers.

"Could you drive me and my friend home? It will take a while for a cab to get here and he's freezing" Sherlock said, the officer knew who he was, he knew his brother and he knew it was pointless trying to argue with the great Sherlock Holmes. He only gave a nod and sat down in the drivers seat, starting up the car.

"John!" Sherlock called out to draw his attention to him. He motioned to the doctor to come over and so he did. John didn't question it, he didn't need to. The two got into the police car and Sherlock told the officer the address of their home.

[Back at 221B Baker Street]

The ride took a while, Sherlock had insisted John took off the wet blankets and at least his jacket and eventually the doctor did. But only when he saw the look in Sherlocks eyes. The clear look of worry and guilt. He ended up wearing Sherlocks warm coat in the end. It was big on him, but it was warm and felt nicer than his wet and heavy jacket.

At the moment, the two stood at the door of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock was fiddling with the small keys he had pulled out of his pocket. Mrs Hudson wasn't home, her car wasn't around and she always left to play some kind of extreme game of Bingo, not that Sherlock questioned it or even wanted to know what it was all about.

Eventually he unlocked the door and it was much harder than you might think. It was so dark it took Sherlock a couple of times to find the right key and a couple more to actually get the key into the key hole.

The two walked inside and Sherlock heard John let out a small sigh of relief, it felt so nice to get out of the cold and harsh air into the warmth and comfort of their own home. Almost. Their flat was blown up completely. Sherlock was pretty sure the blast didn't reach his bedroom, but right now he wasn't going to try and find out. Right now, he was going to warm John up.

"Over here" he said, as he opened the door to the flat of Mrs Hudson. Sherlock knew she wouldn't mind as long, as they didn't leave a mess, which was unlikely. The two walked into the flat of their landlady and kicked off their shoes. John left his on the mat, not wanting the dirt and water to get onto the clean floor.

"The bathroom is right over" Sherlock said, pointing over to the door down the hall "I'm going to get you some fresh clothes and tea, go there and take off your wet ones" he said

"Sherlock, I'm capable of ta-…." John began, but Sherlock interrupted him

"John please"

"Alright, fine" John exhaled and quietly made his way down the hall and into the bathroom.

When Sherlock heard the bathroom door close he made his way into the kitchen. He poured some water into a kettle and set it down onto the stove so the water could boil. He got a cup from one of the shelves and found some green tea. Not only it was good to relief the stress but it was his favorite. John preferred his tea with a bit of cream, no sugar, and just a little warm from a touch of cinnamon. Sadly, Mrs Hudson was all out of cream and he had no idea where she kept the cinnamon so just simple green tea would have to do.

As the water was boiling Sherlock made his way out of the flat and upstairs. Not even glancing at the mess that their flat was he walked right into his bedroom. Which, lucky for him, survived the blast. Since John had moved out it was pointless to go to his bedroom to search for clothing. So, Sherlock would give John his own clothing. It was the best he had. The detective collected fresh and simple clothes for John and made his way back downstairs, just in time to hear the whistling of the kettle. Telling him that the water had boiled. He walked to the kitchen and poured the hot water into the cup, holding the kettle in his right hand while the clothes were in his left.

When the cup was full he set the kettle down and walked to the bathroom. Lightly knocking on the door at first. Only when he heard a quiet 'come in' he opened the door up and walked inside. When he did Sherlock saw John with his hands shaking from the cold trying to undo the buttons on his shirt and clearly struggling to do so. It was easy to tell that his hands felt numb and cold. The male set the clothes onto the toilet seat and took one big step forward that got him close to John. He took the shorter males cold hands with his warm ones and pressed them together.

John looked up at Sherlock, clearly he did something unexpected, but he failed to say what he wanted. John stared right at Sherlock but he kept his gaze low, not even glancing up at Johns face.

"Let me help" Sherlock finally said, his voice coming out rather steady. He let go of Johns hands and the doctor let them drop to his sides. Not really enjoying the loss of warmth.

Sherlock reached out his hands and carefully unbuttoned the first few buttons of Johns shirt, he did it with ease and soon all the buttons were undone. During this whole time he kept his eyes fully focused on what he was doing while John simply watched Sherlock.

But as soon as Sherlock stepped back and pulled himself away from John he looked away

"Yeah…uh thanks" the doctor managed to say, his voice shaken up, but he wasn't sure if it was from the cold or the feeling in his gut.

"I'll let you change" Sherlock replied and exited the bathroom. He made his way back to the kitchen and pulled out his phone out of his pocket. Late. It was too late to make a call now. Molly Hooper was someone he had to talk to, he absolutely had to. She was probably broken and it was all his fault, the worst things ran through Sherlocks head, if she did anything to herself because of him he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. No, he didn't care it was late. He'd call her.

Sherlock quickly found her name in his contacts and pressed the call button. A couple of beeps and he heard her voice. Soft, quiet and shaky.

"H-hello?"

"Molly…" Sherlock exhaled, clearly glad she was alright, probably sleepy and a bit annoyed that he called her but alright "I'm sorry I woke you up I w-….." he was cut off by her

"No, I wasn't sleeping. What do you need?" she asked

"Oh…. Molly, I am sorry. For asking you to say that, I know how you feel and the request I made was horrible. Hear me out. I wasn't trying to make fun of you and I didn't mean to hurt you. It's a very long story, but I promise I'll tell you all of it. I'm truly sorry" he said. Sherlock didn't even hide the guilt in his voice

"Thank you" her answer came only a few moments of silence "Thank you for calling"

"Thank you for picking up" Sherlock said, hearing Molly lightly chuckle at the other end, that made him lightly smile

"Goodnight, Sherlock"

"Goodnight, Molly." He heard her hang up and the call ended. With another sigh of relief Sherlock locked his phone and put it into his pocket. But he didn't get much time to himself since John had walked into the kitchen. He was wearing Sherlocks pajama pants and warm, fuzzy socks and a warm, clearly too big on John hoodie. It wasn't the style that suited John, but at least it kept him warm.

"That was nice of you, the call with Molly" John said to him as he walked through the kitchen and into the living room, sitting down on the couch and tucking his feet under himself to keep them warm. Sherlock didn't say anything. He simply picked up the cup of tea and walked to the living room behind the doctor. He handed him the cup of tea which John gladly accepted.

Sherlock looked around the room and picked up a blanket which was neatly folded on an ironing board. He walked over to the couch and placed the blanket on Johns shoulders before taking a seat next to him. It was Sherlocks turn to watch him now, his eyes were completely focused on John as he slowly drank his tea. Sip by sip. They sat in completely silence for a while like that. Neither started a conversation.

When John finished his tea he placed the cup on to the coffee table and pulled the warm blanket onto himself, leaning back and sinking into the couch. Finally allowing his body to relax.

"I'm sorry" Sherlock finally said, causing John to look over at him and raise his right eyebrow

"For what?" he asked

"For ignoring you and Mycroft, and Vatican Cameos, and for going out of my way, for Mary, for putting you in danger again….everything" he said, now looking away from his friend

"I know, I know you're sorry and I forgive you, but don't let this bring you down. I'm alright, so is Mycroft, Rosie is safe too and Molly" John scooted a bit closer to Sherlock on the couch and the detective looked over at him "I know it's hard. It's not easy and it will take some time for all of this to pass. Our lives won't be back to the way they were before for a while, but they will be back to normal eventually. Or as normal as our lives can get" he placed his hand on the others shoulder and he seemed to have calmed down

"Thank you, John" Sherlock replied, he was clearly tired, both emotionally and physically.

"Lay down, get some rest, I'll explain everything to Mrs Hudson"

"No, no, I'm not tired"

"Sherlock, sleep" John said firmly.

The detective muttered something under his breath, but leaned back on the couch, closed his eyes and fell asleep. It only took him a couple of minutes. His breathing calmed down and he looked so peaceful. As much as John wanted to stay awake and wait for Mrs Hudson he could barely keep his eyes open any longer. Now that Sherlock was asleep he could finally rest too. John pulled the blanket off himself and moved over just a little bit closer to the detective. He didn't want Sherlock getting cold during the night so he covered himself and him up with the blanket and curled up next to him, not too close but close enough to hear his quiet breathing and feel the warmth from him. John knew that both of them needed comfort, he hadn't told Sherlock he was terrified back there, of him shooting himself. John didn't even want to think of the possibility of Sherlock shooting himself. He couldn't go on like that, but he was alright, here with him, right beside him. That was the last thought John had before he drifted to sleep.

 **Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

It's always You – Sherlok Fix-it Fanfiction

 **And chapter two! Yay I actually updated! I wish I could write a chapter per day or at least one chapter in a couple of days, but school has me on a rope. Anyways no more excuses. Enjoy!**

Chapter 2: Letters

"Mhmm…." John lightly hummed something in his sleep as he curled up closer to whoever was providing him the pleasant warmth. Luckily, during the night the man stopped shaking and warmed up, any symptoms that might have hinted at hypothermia were gone and he managed to get at least five or six hours of sleep.

Of course, that was all thanks to Sherlock, the detective had pulled John closer when he woke up and saw the shorter male lightly shivering. He was a light sleeper. He pulled John closer and wrapped his one arm around him, letting John's head rest on his shoulder. When the trembling stopped Sherlock ended up falling asleep, holding John close with his head resting on the others.

And so the two slept. For quite some time. John ended up waking up first, his mind didn't register the whole situation yet and he ended up turning his head so it would be tucked into the crook between Sherlocks neck and shoulder. It felt so right, so warm, so peaceful and the sent he thought he was used to after all these years seemed like a completely new reality to him.

Only when he heard a soft clearing of the throat his eyes snapped open and he quickly moved himself away from the detective. John almost fell down the couch, almost, but luckily Sherlock had grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him up. Sherlock let go once he knew John regained his balance. The two just sat there like that for a moment. The detective staring right at him while the doctor desperately tried to think of something to avoid the awkward situation and the intense gaze from the other.

He felt like he was going into a panic, he felt blood rush to his face and sweat forming on his forehead. The last thing he wanted was for Sherlock to get the wrong idea.

John parted his lips and sucked in a breath as if he was about to say something, he wanted the words to just spill out, but just then Mrs. Hudson had walked into the room, carrying a small tray with two teacups. That made John exhale with relief and look over at Mrs. Hudson with a warm smile on his face. Meanwhile Sherlock didn't seem as happy, clearly, he wanted to know what John was going to say.

"Oh, you two looked lovely sleeping like that" exclaimed the landlady as she set the tray onto the table in front of them "It's already 10 am and your friend stopped by with Rosie. I didn't want to wake you boys up. You looked very comfortable"

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson" John said and the woman softly smiled

"I'll keep Rosie occupied and you two drink your tea" she added before leaving the room

Sherlock leaned forward and picked up the cup with the green tea, he sat up straight and handed the cup to John. The doctor took it, feeling Sherlocks fingers merely brush against his. As the detective said nothing and simply picked up his own cup of tea John let himself sink into the couch. He brought up the cup to his lips and took a small sip.

Once again, the two sat in an almost unbearable silence. Quietly sipping their drinks. One of them hoped the other would say something, anything to start up some kind of conversation, finally Sherlock did.

"John…" he began rather softly, his voice cracking a bit. The way Sherlock said his name clearly told John that something was definitely wrong "I….the letter, I can't forget about it" he muttered. It seemed like Sherlock was going to say something else but changed his mind at the very last second.

"Sherlock I told you to forget about it. I didn't mean it, what I said. I wasn't thinking straight, I thought I had nothing to live for. I was in shock and again I'm sorry for saying all that I said" John replied. He couldn't believe he said all of that to Sherlock. He called him a horrible friend and told him how he had broken a vow, of how it was his fault Mary died and how he would never be able to fix it. It was John letting all of his emotions out on paper and he let them reach the person for whom he cared the most for.

"Of course." Sherlock simply said, not really having a reaction, though his hands were gripping the cup so tightly they were starting to shake a little bit.

"If there's anything you need to talk about I'm here" John said reassuringly

"Perhaps, after all of this that happened I need to let some things out" Sherlock set the cup on the table and stared down at his hands that he had folded into his lap "I've been thinking, for years now that perhaps there is more to me than I want to believe in"

"What are you saying?" John asked, now setting the cup onto the table just like Sherlock did

"Clearly I am very capable of emotions and lack the certain capabilities to control them like my brother does. I've realized that, but I still believed that love was not something that I would be familiar with at all. The different love, not the friends and family kind of one the….." Sherlock trailed off

"Romantic?" the doctor turned to face him

"Yes. That." He buried his face into his hands and let out a shaky breath "I don't know why I'm like this all of a sudden forget I said anything it's…fine…all fine"

Johns eyebrows knitted together in confusion and he spoke up in a firm voice "No, Sherlock, it's not fine. Just because you say it is, it doesn't make it fine"

"Please, forget about it, it's just me with my thoughts"

"For Gods' sake Sherlock! For once in your life would you just let it out and make yourself and everyone else feel better?! We can't help you then!" John raised his voice and watched as Sherlock dug his hands into his own hair

"It's too soon!" the detective cut him off, knowing very well there was something else John wanted to add

"For what?" John asked, letting his voice calm down just a little bit

"Everything…." Sherlock muttered, scratching his head to find some kind of form of stress relief but that seemed to only make him more irritated "I'll tell you some other time…maybe" he mumbled the last word to himself

John got off the couch and came to stand in front of Sherlock. He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed the other suspiciously. He had a good feeling of what the other wanted to say, John wasn't an idiot, he knew.

"Get up" he simply said to him and much to his surprise Sherlock stood up, looking up from the ground he found himself directly in front of John, their chests would have been touching if it weren't for Johns crossed arms "I'm not stupid, Sherlock. I'm nowhere near your talent, but even I can notice some things. Now I want you to say it before I get Rosie and leave and mark my words I won't come back until you're ready to talk to me"

Sherlock let out another shaky breath and rested his hands on Johns forearms, he lowered Johns arms to the side and gulped down the words that wanted to escape. He stood like that for a few minutes, trying to get the courage to talk and desperately trying to put all the words together in his head. Lucky for him, John was patient.

"I….." he finally began, making John raise his eyebrows and focus on the expression Sherlock was making, he was like a child, hopelessly trying to speak his first words "I….I don't want you to go" his bottom lip quivered and he gripped onto the fabric of Johns hoodie "I don't want to be alone. I need you to stay"

John could see how hard Sherlock was fighting back the tears, was it fear? Sadness? Disappointment? He couldn't figure it out, but he didn't try to either. Not now at least. Quickly the doctor pulled the other into a hug, letting Sherlock rest his head on his shoulder. John still had to stand up on his tiptoes to fully support Sherlock since the other gripped onto his clothing like there was no tomorrow.

There was this feeling again, as Sherlock held onto him and lightly shook from time to time, John felt the feeling in his stomach again. His stomach was twisting in knots and his heartbeat elevated. Why did having him so close feel so right?

"Don't go…." Sherlock managed to say, his voice breaking

"I won't" John said reassuringly and lightly brushed his hand up and down Sherlocks back in an attempt to comfort him. What Eurus had done to him, it broke him emotionally and this was one of the rare times Sherlock Holmes, the so called high-functioning sociopath, which clearly he wasn't, opened up to him.

They stood like that for God knows how long. Nothing mattered at that point, they just held each other like that, afraid to let go and go back to the awkward silences and small talk. But Sherlock was the first to break the hug, however he didn't back away, his hands traveled from Johns back and clung to the fabric of the sleeves again. He was staring at Johns chest now, biting his lip and hoping to find the right words again.

"Anything else you need to say?" John asked, noticing how clingy he was acting

"Yes." Sherlock said quickly

"Well go on then" he encouraged him

Sherlock swallowed another lump in his throat and lifted up his head to stare right at the blue eyes of the shorter male. He parted his lips and just let the words he wanted to say for so long out. It felt so relieving to finally say them

"I love you"

But the relief didn't last long because almost immediately that feeling was replaced by a sense of fear and panic. Sherlock felt his breathing quicken as if he was trying to get more air and he was basically begging John to say something to him.

"How long?" John asked

"I don't…. know" Sherlock replied, slowly lowering his gaze "I never liked women, they never attracted me, it was so weird because I found myself being attracted to men more. That was until I started ignoring all of my emotions and focused on work. It was fine until you came along, but you seemed to be interested in women and you were happy with Mary when I came back. I didn't want to ruin it. You were happy and I didn't care about anything else, because I thought that even if it hurt me you were happy and then I let you down. I didn't want to tell you how I feel. With Mary gone I didn't want to rush into any of this, I didn't want to be a jerk. Which is why I started using again…. I was desperate to get rid of the pain" his lip began to quiver again and John couldn't take it anymore.

He grabbed onto Sherlocks shirt, squeezing the fabric tightly in his hands before he pulled Sherlock closer and pressed his lips against his.

Clearly Sherlock was taken aback but he soon melted into the soft kiss and let himself get closer to John, if that was even possible. They kissed and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. The kiss said all the unspoken words and it felt so right. John could feel Sherlock tug at his sleeves as the kiss became more eager, the detectives' lips were soft and he could pick up a slight taste of black tea from before.

Meanwhile Sherlock did his best to calm down his racing heart, so many questions flooded his head and it was hard to ignore them. John was so close to him and the kiss felt rather sloopy and wet by the end, in a good way. They broke apart, the grips they had on each other loosened up, but they didn't let go, thinking that if they did they would lose each other forever.

Both of them, were breathing heavily, they didn't know for how long the kiss lasted but it was long enough to leave both of them breathless.

Sherlock just stared at John, admired him. John was always the hardest puzzle for Sherlock. His attitude always changed, first he was nice and innocent but he could become angry and dangerous in a second. Of course, he could read him, deduce him, but his feelings were always a mystery to him. Not anymore though.

"Does…. that mean?" Sherlock asked, unsure of himself

John just tucked his head into the crook of the other neck again and closed his eyes "You're such an idiot" he muttered. John didn't need to look over at Sherlock to know he was even more confused now, probably trying to process everything that had happened "Yes. I love you too"

 **Thank you for reading! All mistakes were made by me I'm sorry.**


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